


For Me And My Gal

by amidtheflowers



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1940s AU, F/M, Gift Fic, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9328352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: Bucky meets a girl before shipping out to fight the war, and it changes everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JanetSnakehole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanetSnakehole/gifts).



> So a little birdie told me it is Janet's birthday, who sneakily did not say a word, and so of course I wrote a secret gift fic for her. Happy birthday, you adorable goober. You are wonderful and lovely and one of the first people I met when I came to the wintershock fandom and you're an absolute cupcake. I hope you like this.
> 
> A few weeks ago Janet wondered about a wintershock fic for [this](https://68.media.tumblr.com/37220ad2a81dcebd9e0f1a554c216d61/tumblr_oj0t0kaQPW1umrnj4o1_1280.png) photo, and I was more than happy to oblige. This fic takes place canonically during the 40s, with the addition of Darcy.
> 
> I also incorporated [this](https://68.media.tumblr.com/870de13f311134edfcbc0e22c1092b28/tumblr_messaging_ojsnvhYMGZ1sgqzn6_1280.png) comic scene into the fic, because it just made sense. 
> 
> Happy reading! xx

**For Me And My Gal**

**.:.**

**.:.:.**

**.:.:.:.**

“Aw Stevie, couldn’t you pick somethin’ more, I don’t know, stepwise? I don’t wanna do another still life,” Bucky gave a long-suffering sigh as he and Steve ducked into the small art studio building. Steve grinned, hefting the small pack on his back. “We came all the way to Times Square too.”

“The more you keep pretending you don’t like these art classes the more I’m dragging you to them,” Steve replied easily. Bucky and Steve paused to wipe their snow-sodden boots on the welcome mat before continuing down the open hall. Bucky winked at the wizened receptionist as they passed her by, who merely pressed her lips together and shook her head fondly.

“I’m no good, Steve. My fingers get all tangled up and I can’t draw for shit.” Bucky shrugged off his jacket and set it on the hook outside the studio room, then leaned against the wall as he waited for Steve to sling up his own. “Why can’t we go to that boxing ring a few blocks down? We gotta get some meat on you—’specially if you keep picking fights in alleyways.”

“I don’t pick fights, Bucky. I just don’t like bullies.” Steve hushed his voice as they entered the studio. It was unexpectedly crowded this time, and Bucky raised his eyebrows.

“You’d think we’re having a nude model this week or somethin’.” Bucky settled in his usual easel and Steve sat on the chair beside him.

“We are.”

Bucky turned his head to glance at the figure perched on the stool to his right.

A woman wearing a long, blue coat with a hat pinned to her head was sitting cross-legged on the chair, a smile twisting her lips. Bucky blinked twice, trying not to focus on the deep red painted on her lips and forced himself to meet her eyes—a stunning, iridescent blue.

“You’re kidding?”

The woman’s smile deepened, giving a half-shrug. “Not at all. Instructor told us last week—something about appreciating art in all its forms? Apparently folks have been getting testy about the fruit bowl models.”

“And not for nothing! You hear that, Steve?” Bucky swiveled back to grin at his friend. “Guess it’s a good thing I came this week after all.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah…”

“You come here often, then, mister?” The woman looked him up and down thoughtfully. “Don’t remember seeing you last week.”

Bucky raked his teeth over his bottom lip, taking in the teasing lilt to her smile. Damn if it didn’t set something alight inside of him. “Was taking care of my Ma last week. You know that nasty cold that’s been going around lately?”

“Don’t I ever. My roommate’s been out sick all week,” the woman replied with an understanding frown.

“Well, that’s why. My buddy Steve—this is Steve by the way, Steve Rogers,” Steve nodded politely at the woman with a small smile, “he’s been dragging me to these art classes—something about widening my horizons, building life skills.” Bucky ducked his head before holding out his hand. “Name’s Bucky Barnes.”

The woman glanced at his hand before shaking it firmly. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes. I take it you’re not the artist of the duo, then.”

Bucky shrugged. “Please, call me Bucky. And nah, it’s more Steve’s gig than mine. It’s fun, anyway. Can’t say I’m complaining this time around.”

The woman hiked a brow. “Are you always this transparent when it comes to naked girls?”

Steve choked next to Bucky, but Bucky frowned. “No, ma’am. It isn’t like that at all.”

The woman stared at him silently for the moment. “You’re in luck then, Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky,” Bucky corrected, but the word died on his lips when the woman—what was her name?—rose from her seat and strode to the front of the classroom, smiling at the instructor who had walked in and was going over the day’s lesson.

Bucky watched with wide eyes as the woman unbuttoned her coat and unpinned her hat, setting them onto a desk, before propping herself up on a high stool. His mouth dropped at the sight before him—a red, silken robe draped over her body, parting in the front to show a tantalizing show of bare skin and partially covered breasts, with legs for days and a teasing smile directed straight for Bucky.

“Huh,” was all Bucky managed to say.

The woman who’s name Bucky still, frustratingly, did not know, seemed to take great enjoyment in Bucky’s surprise, with the way she’d quirk her brow every time their eyes met. Which, to be honest, was more frequent than prudent (but who was Bucky kidding—prudent was the last thing he gave a damn about).

The teasing smile, though, needed to go.

“She ever gonna take the robe off?” Bucky asked Steve, knowing full well the woman could hear them.

Steve shrugged. “Eventually she does, yeah.”

Bucky flicked his gaze away from hers when she glanced at him. “About what time? I got to go to the can and I don’t want to miss it.”

“The whole concept of ‘art appreciation’ really isn’t sinking in with you, is it, Bucky?”

“What?” Bucky glanced back up at the woman, who was staring at him with a look that was challenging, her chin up. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, Bucky replied. “ _She’s_ art. And I appreciate _her_.”

When the woman faltered, just enough for him to notice, Bucky smiled inwardly.

Steve sighed. “You got a funny way of showing it.”

Bucky gave an affronted look, tipping the easel to show Steve his sketch. It was absolute chicken scratch compared to Steve’s, but Bucky only grinned proudly. “Philistine. You’re talking to the next Picasso.”

Steve snorted loudly and shoved Bucky’s easel back the way it was. “It’s true what they say, then. Art is dead.”

Bucky caught a flicker of movement and stilled. The woman was smiling at him again—teasing again, but softer, knowing—and he watched her fingers reach for the strap on her robe.

“ _We’re at war!_ ”

The door to the studio burst open and everyone jumped. Bucky blinked in surprise as the men around them abandoned their easels and crowded around the man who had entered the studio.

“Sneak attack—they bombed the hell outta Pearl Harbor!”

“Wait—who bombed what now? Pearl Harbor, that in Queens?”

“Turn on the radio!”

Bucky glanced at Steve, swallowing hard.

War.

**-:-**

“Looking kinda pale there,” a voice said behind him as Bucky put on his jacket. He smiled when he saw the woman standing with her hands stuffed in her coat pockets.

“It can happen when you find out your country has entered the war,” Bucky said with a shrug, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s kinda fucked.” The woman smiled when Bucky let out a surprised laugh. “Say, where’s your friend?”

“Steve? He’s in the can.”

“I thought it was you who needed to go.” The woman quirked a brow.

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Didn’t know you were listenin’ in.”

The woman shrugged. “Gotta do something to occupy myself. Gets pretty boring sitting up there on a stool for three hours.”

Bucky ducked his head, his cheeks warming. “Hey. Hey, uh…can I have your name?”

The smile on her face brightened. “Why do you wanna know?”

“I, uh—I’d like to take you out, if that’s something—something you’d like. You seem like a really great gal.”

“You’re not just saying that because you almost saw me—”

“No!” Bucky said quickly, his cheeks reddening when the woman threw back her head and laughed.

“Relax, I’m only teasing. I wouldn’t sign up for something like that if I wasn’t totally okay with it. A body’s just a body, right?” She tilted her head expectantly and Bucky nodded fervently.

“Right. It’s art. You’re…beautiful. I’m sorry,” Bucky shook his head, closing his eyes when the woman smiled slowly. “God, it’s usually Steve who’s this bad at talking to girls. I’m sorry, I don’t want to bother you more than I have.”

“Darcy.” Bucky paused, looking at her in confusion. She bit her lip. “My name. Darcy Lewis. And I definitely think you should take me out sometime. Now better than never, right? Considering.”

Bucky’s thoughts darkened as he recalled the awful broadcast on the radio. “Yeah. Now better than never.”

Darcy nodded cheerfully. “You free tomorrow night?”

Bucky nodded back, smiling a little. “Yeah, I’m free. Where d’you live?”

“Brooklyn.”

“Well this is just fate then,” Bucky offered his arm to Darcy as Steve came back from the bathroom, staring at them in surprise. “Looks like we’re taking the same subway.”

Darcy smiled broadly, and took his arm.

**-:-**

“I really…should get…going…” Darcy breathed against his lips as Bucky crowded in on her, pressing Darcy back against the brick wall of the apartment building.

“Five more minutes,” Bucky mumbled, and when Darcy hummed against his mouth, he took that as a hearty yes and slanted his mouth over hers.

The date had been wonderful. Coney Island—nothing could have been more wonderful, nothing in Bucky’s past experiences going on dates had ever left him this winded, this happy or this eager, this—this _much_. It was _too_ much. He felt like his heart was overflowing with joy and—and something more, something that felt a lot like finding a missing part of himself he never knew wasn’t there. Never knew he even lacked.

And Darcy—goddamn Darcy. She was sharp as a wit, the things she said could leave him howling and not give a damn at how foolish he must look. She made his heartbeat quicken. She made him warm inside. She made him happy.

That had been the first date. This was a stellar fifth. A lively evening dancing for hours, eyes bright with exhilaration and their bodies pressed against each other—much like it was now. The evening had them keyed up and it only got more— _prominent_ —the longer they danced, until Bucky finally pulled them out of the ballroom and walked her back to her apartment. He was a gentlemen, after all.

That is, until she dragged him into the alley.

Presently, Darcy was doing something truly remarkable with her tongue that had him seeing stars in the back of his eyes. He growled against her mouth and pushed her harder into the wall, their hips pressed tantalizingly together. His heart just about jumped from his chest when he felt her wrap a leg around his hips.

“I could walk you up,” Bucky said breathlessly, pressing sucking kisses into her neck.

“Can’t,” Darcy panted as she curled her fingers tightly into his jacket, tilting her head to grant him better access to her throat. “Girls only—landlady would catch us.”

“I’ll be careful. Promise.”

Darcy pulled him into another searing kiss. Bucky moaned, lifting her higher against the wall and the sound of her soft whimper woke up parts of him that he really wanted…really wanted to…

Bucky groaned when Darcy pushed him away, just enough so their lips had a good inch or two of space between them.

“Next time,” Darcy licked her lips and smiled at him when his eyes flickered down at the movement, “pick a date somewhere closer to _your_ apartment.”

**-:-**

Steve wrinkled his nose when he walked into the kitchen. “You two seriously should consider getting a room.”

Darcy pulled away from Bucky’s mouth with a loud smack, and tossed him a friendly grin as Bucky buried his face into the nape of her neck. “Hey Steve! That the mail you got there?”

Steve smiled. “Hey Darcy. And it sure is. One of them’s for you, Buck.”

Bucky let out a deep sigh as he pulled away from Darcy. “It’s probably the bank again—jeez, you open one account and suddenly…”

Steve blinked when a long silence stretched between them. “Suddenly what?” He turned to Bucky, who was staring at the opened letter with a blank look in his eyes.

Bucky looked up at Steve. “I got my papers, Stevie.” He looked to Darcy, who was watching him silently, eyes wide with fear.

**-:-**

“That girl really was something else. Did you see the way she scoffed at Steve when he offered her peanuts?” Darcy muttered as Bucky walked them home, his arm around her shoulders and his uniform jacket draped over her. Under her breath, she added, “Wouldn’t kill you to offer _me_ peanuts once in a while.”

Bucky let out an incredulous snort. “Darcy, baby, you don’t like carnival food. Remember the chili cheese sandwich from Central Park? And the funnel cake from Coney?”

 “I’m sure nuts wouldn’t upset my stomach!” Darcy glared when Bucky continued to grin, hiding his laughter. She glanced at the road they were taking, and paused. “Hey, where’re you taking me?”

Bucky frowned. “To your place.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why? It’s your last night here. You ship out in the morning.” Darcy stared at him pointedly. “We should go to your place.”

Bucky didn’t meet her eyes. “Darcy…doll…”

“Don’t ‘Darcy doll’ me. What is this.”

“Doll, listen. I’m. I’m going to war.”

“I know that. I’ve known since you got your letter. I was there.”

“Then you know what that means,” Bucky said quietly.

Darcy pressed her mouth together. “No.”

“Darcy.”

“No! I don’t care.”

“You _should_ care. You should. I can’t have you tied down to someone like me,” Bucky closed his eyes, eyebrows knitting together in anger.  “I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Well that’s too fucking bad, now, isn’t it?” Darcy shot back, shaking her head incredulously. “I’m choosing you. What the hell kind of girl do you think I am? You think I’m going to break up with you because you’re going off to fight a war? You think I’m like that?” Darcy said indignantly.

“No, that’s exactly what you’re _not_ ,” Bucky hissed. “Don’t you see? I could—I might—”

“I know.” Darcy gripped his arms tightly, pulling them closer together. “ _I know._ And I still want to be yours. _Yours_. And mine.”

Bucky swallowed hard, pressing their foreheads together and causing his hat to tilt up, until it slid right off and hit the pavement. “You shouldn’t.”

“I do anyway.” Darcy peered up at him with a soft smile. “Besides. You still haven’t seen me without the robe.”

Bucky bit his lip, trying to hide the eagerness in his stride as he dragged Darcy back to his apartment, where Steve was blissfully gone and they had the whole night to themselves.

**-:-**

The train was already heavily filled by the time Bucky and Darcy arrived at the station. Their hands were linked as Bucky hiked his pack higher on his shoulder. He swallowed hard, watching the engine puff out smoke. Darcy squeezed his hand and Bucky looked down at her, smiling at the reassurance he saw reflected back at him.

“You have my address?” Darcy asked him.

“I do. Not that I need it; it’s burned in my head forever anyway.” Bucky smiled and Darcy tried smiling back, but it was faint and her eyes had gone sad. “Hey,” he said quietly, tipping her chin up to meet his eyes.

What he saw in them was everything he felt in himself—fear, hope, uncertainty, love. He loved her. He said as much last night, the same he had for months, the same she had as well.

So it was only natural when the next words that came out of Bucky’s mouth were, “Marry me.”

If Darcy was surprised, she didn’t show it.

“Yes,” she breathed, and Bucky grinned as he pulled her flush against his body, hugging her until he practically bent her over backwards. “I love you. Yes. Yes.”

“I don’t have a ring,” said Bucky. He reached into his collar and pulled off a necklace with a small cross pendant. “This okay?”

“It so is. Gimme.” Bucky chuckled as he put it on for her, and Darcy flipped her hair and settled the necklace over her top. She beamed up at him and Bucky couldn’t help but kiss her again.

“I gotta go now, doll. Train’s about to leave,” Bucky glanced at the train as it gave a loud horn. “I love you, Darcy. I’ll write to you whenever I can.”

“I love you too. Go save the world,” Darcy cupped his jaw tenderly and he dropped a kiss on her palm.

He watched her as long as he could before he boarded the train. Bucky smiled when he found a spot close to where he boarded, and Darcy was still there. She caught sight of him and jogged to where he was peering out the open window of the train.

“Bucky!” Darcy exclaimed, waving excitedly. Bucky smiled at her, and watched as she bit her lip and reached up to clasp his pendant with one hand.

The smile slipped away instantly. “Come here,” Bucky shouted, and leaned across the window to better reach her. Bucky only managed to grasp Darcy’s hand and he growled in frustration. He turned to the men standing around him.

“Hey fellas—wanna help a guy kiss his girl one last time?”

And there he was—three laughing men holding him by the knees as Bucky draped himself over the cart of the train, out of the window, and reaching for Darcy urgently. And when their lips crushed together, one last time, full of love and affection and hope and utter desperation, Bucky held the memory forever.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this one. xx


End file.
